


selling red and white carnations

by tsurakutemo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, Paddling, mentions of Zayn/Perrie, mentions of liam/danielle, slight d/s themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:08:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsurakutemo/pseuds/tsurakutemo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is that alright then?” Niall asks after a moment.</p>
<p>Zayn considers, touching the paddle to the abused flesh of Harry's arse. Harry jerks, keening low in his throat, muscles straining from staying bent over like this, and Zayn grins. Harry's mentioned it, back when they were talking about what was okay and what wasn't, and he got worked up enough that he came mere moments after Zayn got a hand on him.</p>
<p>“Yeah. He likes it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	selling red and white carnations

**Author's Note:**

> My first venture into fandom would be porn, wouldn't it. I really hope it doesn't end up being too bad! Thanks to T for britpicking and being generally encouraging :)
> 
> Title from Passion Pit's Take A Walk.

Zayn has learned a lot about Harry over the years, and most of them are things that people wouldn't think he ever knew. He's learned that playing with his hair makes him compliant and sleepy, but that if you tug in just the right place with just enough strength, he'll go boneless and breathless and needy. He's learned that he's sensitive in the oddest places, such as the inside of his right wrist and just above his bellybutton, and he's learned that Harry absolutely loves it when he bites marks right below the birds on his chest.

 

Those are the good things, the ones Zayn exploits when he can because it's just so _good_ to see it when Harry completely falls apart from pleasure and happiness. When a compliment has him beaming in return and when he's just so overwhelmed by the love someone can give him, because he's such a people-pleaser and he wants everybody to be happy.

 

There are also bad things, things Zayn has learned to never do again, such as put a hand around his throat. He hadn't even pressed down, had merely placed his hand there, and Harry had seized up and whimpered and pleaded for him to take his hand away, all in a few seconds. Zayn had pulled back as if burned. They'd talked for a long time after that, and Zayn had made sure there wasn't a serious reason for him to react like that.

 

(“There's not,” Harry had said, looking uncomfortable. “I just don't... like, it just feels wrong. Makes me feel icky.”)

 

Zayn can think of approximately one other person who probably knows equally as much about Harry as he does by now, if not more, and that's Louis. Harry doesn't talk about it much, but he knows they did things together back when Louis wasn't with Hannah and before Eleanor came into the picture. The two of them are best of friends and both of them have made it very clear that it was just experimentation. Louis found out it isn't quite his thing, even if he can enjoy it, and Harry found out he likes it – a lot.

 

Zayn doesn't really remember when he and Harry fell into this situation. He _thinks_ he was drunk, and Harry must've been too, and he thinks there was a handjob and a blowjob involved. Then later, when they were on the tour bus and everyone else were otherwise engaged, Harry had come to him. They had definitely been sober this time, and after a while it just felt like it was natural to continue what they have whenever they need it.

 

They aren't boyfriends by any means, and Zayn has Perrie back home when neither are away, but there's something there that goes beyond friendship. Zayn doesn't like dwelling on it much though, so he doesn't.

 

 

 

Hotel nights are a blessing. They get out of the cramped bus and get some space of their own for a bit, with a good, soft bed, and there's some time to do whatever they want. Harry and Zayn don't always share, and they don't always have sex when they do. Harry likes cuddles, and while they're not completely Zayn's forte he allows them, lets Harry tuck in close beneath his arm and nuzzle into his neck. He sometimes lets his fingers draw over the tattoos on Harry's arm, fingers along the masts of the ship, over letters and and gems and trinkets. Sometimes they spend ages whispering and confiding in each other and tracing each other's tattoos like they're a timeline. Harry likes touching Zayn's sleeve and asking what else he'll fill it in with, likes tracing each tattoo with his lips.

 

It usually starts like that. Harry's lips go up along his arm, over his shoulder and up his neck. They brush along his jawline until Zayn can feel hot breath on his ear.  
  


“Zayn?” Harry asks, voice low. “Can we- uhm, if you want to...”

 

He pulls back a bit, hesitant. He always is so worried Zayn will say no, even if he should know better by now.

 

“Sure,” Zayn says, pulling Harry closer and running a hand through his hair. “Tell me what you want.”

 

Harry looks torn for a moment, biting his lip. He rarely openly says what he wants, usually likes to show it or have Zayn guess his way forwards, so he always takes a moment to consider when Zayn's asking, even if he's already decided what he would like to do.

 

“Would you hit me?” he asks at last, after a few moments of silence. Zayn smiles.

  
“Sure. What do you want me to hit you with?”

 

Usually Harry's alright with just Zayn's hand on his skin, slapping him about a bit, turning his skin red and hot and achy. Other times, usually when they're stressed out and barely have a moment's rest except for their hotel nights, there's a paddle in Zayn's bag that's open for use.

 

Harry blinks up at him with eyes wide and blown just from thinking about what he wants. “The paddle.” he decides. There's no stress to relieve quite yet, but he likes it, the weight of it and how it hits him so evenly. Zayn knows how to strike him just right, and it makes him shiver when he thinks about how good it'll feel.

 

Zayn kisses his cheek in reward and gets up from the bed. He pushed the bag into the closet when they arrived, always does. Sometimes he doesn't pull it out, doesn't need it, and sometimes he's prone to forgetting its there entirely until he's looking over the room one last time before leaving. He does need it now however, and grabs the black bag, holding it tightly as he turns back around.

 

“Get your kit off and bend over the end of the bed.” he says. Harry knows this by now, but he likes it when Zayn tells him and Zayn likes telling him. Likes having this bit of power over him, knowing he can do whatever he likes and Harry will comply. They've got a safe word, but they haven't gotten far enough for Harry to use it yet, and Zayn highly doubts they ever will.

 

Harry is quick to comply, getting what little he's wearing off. He folds them and puts them on the other bed, though, before he bends over the one they just laid in. It's a bit low, the angle is a bit awkward, and he spreads out his legs to gain proper balance. When he looks at Zayn, his eyes are shining with want and Zayn can see him swallow thickly, as if his mouth's watering just from how much he craves it.

 

Zayn doesn't let him have it immediately, walks over and turns off their phones first so they won't be disturbed, dims the lights a bit and makes it more comfortable. It's also to make Harry a bit more desperate. He's holding the sheets in his fists, trying to stay still, but there's a minute quake that tells Zayn he wants to move, that he wants to tackle Zayn to the bed and get going with it.

 

He takes the paddle from the bag and swings it experimentally, before running the flat side of it over the swell of Harry's arse. Harry shivers. It's heady, having such power over him. He's just waiting for it, and he won't get it until Zayn wants to give it.

 

“You ready?” he asks, routine, and Harry nods, but doesn't speak. He rarely does in these moments, unable to wrap his mind about getting out full sentences.

 

Zayn lets the first fall strike. They don't have a set amount, but he rarely goes past ten, fifteen if he wants to stretch it a bit, because it's not about _punishment_ – it's not about hitting Harry until he hurts for days. It's about releasing whatever frustration is pent up after days of doing the same thing over and over with no rest, and each strike does that surprisingly well.

 

Harry jerks, and Zayn hears his necklaces clinking as they hit against each other. He doesn't know why, but he always likes that, likes watching them dance and swing every time Harry moves, willingly or not.

 

The paddle falls three more times, reddening his cheeks, before he lets the next hit the swell between his backside and thigh. Harry moans, then whimpers and shifts. “Zayn...”

 

Zayn waits as Harry tries to get himself together, smoothing the paddle over the warm flesh, knows the wood is still cool against his skin. When Harry doesn't continue, Zayn does it for him.

 

“D'you want me to hit you 'til you're burning, Haz?” he asks. “D'you want to just take it until you're begging me to get you wet and open and ready for me?”

 

Harry is nodding frantically, pawing at the sheets. “ _Yes_ ,” he gasps. “Yes, yes, _oh_ -”

 

Zayn hits him again, harder this time, on one cheek and then the other, and Harry's jerking forwards, spreading his legs wider and bending until he can bite down on the fabric beneath him.

 

They don't get much further than that, because suddenly the door leading to the hallway outside opens. Louis is speaking before he even enters, and both of them freeze. Zayn has completely forgotten that he gave the second key card to Niall for safekeeping, just like how he'd gotten Liam's.

 

“You shouldn't turn your phones off...” Louis voice dies out all of a sudden. There is a slightly choked noise from where the other three are now standing in the doorway, and Zayn takes a deep breath before he straightens and turns. He's still holding the paddle, and the three of them are looking between that and the redness of Harry's skin. He glances back, takes in the blush on his cheeks, knows he's embarrassed, but he's also hard, grip still tight on the quilt.

 

“Can you close the door if you plan on staying?” Zayn asks, crossing his arms. He feels remarkably casual about this, like he can work around it somehow. Niall pushes it shut automatically. He looks slightly fascinated but also a bit worried. Liam's taken to looking anywhere but at them, and Louis is grinning.

 

“Is that alright then?” Niall asks after a moment.

 

Zayn considers, touching the paddle to the abused flesh of Harry's arse. Harry jerks, keening low in his throat, muscles straining from staying bent over like this, and Zayn grins. Harry's mentioned it, back when they were talking about what was okay and what wasn't, and he got worked up enough that he came mere moments after Zayn got a hand on him.

 

“Yeah. He likes it. Right, Haz?”

 

Harry nods and turns his head to glance at them. His eyes are shining and wet with tears, but there's a small smile, almost invisible, at the corners of his mouth.

 

“Up on the bed.” Louis says suddenly, and Harry complies, sighing quietly in relief at not having to bend quite as much anymore. Zayn thinks this might work, but he worries about Liam and Niall, who are still standing just by the door, looking ready to bolt.

 

“'s'at... 's'at feel good then?” Liam asks, voice quiet and wary. “The paddle?”

 

“Yeah, it does,” Zayn replies. He's not had it done to himself, but he knows that's not what Liam's asking, either. He's asking if Harry thinks so, and Zayn _knows_ he does. “Doesn't it, Harry?”

 

“So good,” Harry rasps, voice low. He looks over at them, still blushing. “You can... d'you want to try?” he asks, and then quickly clarifies at the slightly horrified look on Liam's face, “On me.”

 

Liam hesitates, then shakes his head. “Maybe. Just. Watch?”

 

He grimaces slightly, and Louis moves back and squeezes his shoulder. “You don't have to, Li. You can leave, no one's gonna fault you. We did walk in on them, anyway. It's all a bit weird from the get go.”

 

“A bit.” Niall agrees, but he grins, tentative.

 

“If everyone's alright with... well.” Liam pauses for a moment. “Danielle did say it was okay.”

 

“A girl after my own heart.” Louis says with a fond grin. Liam frowns at him.

 

Zayn turns his attention to Harry and moves into the bed, settling down against the headboard after shoving the pillow up.

 

“C'mere,” he says, and Harry crawls into his lap and settles, keeping the weight on his knees. Zayn runs his hand over his arse, still hot to the touch, and then presses his fingertips down, knows the skin whitens under the pressure. Harry gasps and rocks forwards. His cock had softened slightly as they spoke, but Zayn knows it'll be completely hard again in the matter of moments.

 

Liam and Niall are both staring, and Louis is watching them, calculating.

 

“Oh,” Liam breathes, partially hiding behind Louis, which doesn't actually work. “He's... pretty.”

 

Harry whimpers at that and hides his face in Zayn's neck.

 

“Yeah,” Zayn murmurs. “He's very pretty like this. So responsive, too, if you only knew.”

 

Niall moves a little closer. “Show us then,” he says, and gathers the courage to sit down on the other bed. Liam follows after a moment, and Louis sits down on the same bed as Zayn and Harry, though he's a bit behind them. He smirks at Zayn and holds his hands up, as if to tell him he's letting Zayn be in charge.

 

Zayn grins and kneads the flesh beneath his hands, and then spanks him once, hard. Harry moans, and Liam jumps. Niall's eyes go wide for a moment, and then he sits crosslegged so he can lean forwards.

 

Knowing their attention is on them, Zayn pulls Harry into a kiss, fingers lightly gripping his chin. It's messy, just on this side of sloppy, but he knows no one will really care. Harry smiles into the kiss, dopey, and Zayn allows himself to grin because this is absolutely mental. But it has the potential to be really fucking hot as well, so he's not about to stop it.

 

He tugs his t-shirt off and then wraps his hand around Harry's cock. Harry nuzzles into his neck and then bites down to muffle the noises he makes when Zayn thumbs at the head, spreading the precome beading there. He gets really wet when he's hard and Zayn absolutely loves it.

 

He moves his hand up, presses his thumb to Harry's lip, and his tongue peeks out as he licks at it in small flicks before Zayn pushes it inside. Harry sucks at it, tongues at the pad and all along it, much like he sucks at his cock whenever he's giving a blowjob. When Zayn pulls his thumb out with a small 'pop', Harry tries to follow so Zayn kisses him again instead.

 

“His mouth is _obscene_ ,” Liam says, voice quiet and slightly awed. His cheeks are flushed, and when Niall glances at him, he knows he's getting turned on. Not that Niall or Louis are doing any better themselves. In fact, Louis looks completely unfazed that the sight turns him on, watching them from where he's comfortably seated.

 

Zayn looks over at them and smirks, then murmurs in Harry's ear.

 

“You're looking really good for them, babe. Even Liam likes it, he's getting all bothered because of you. And Louis is looking at you like he wants to eat you. You look so good. But you know that, don't you? Do you want them?”

 

Harry nods quickly, eyes wide and dark when he looks up. “Please.” he says, voice breathy. “Yes, please, want-”

 

Louis moves forwards and fastens his lips to Harry's neck before he's done talking and Harry gasps, sinking down, but hisses when his arse touches Zayn's clothed legs, though he doesn't make to move from that position. Zayn glances over at Liam and Niall. “D'you want to...?”

 

They both shake their heads. “Don't think I could,” Niall said with a grin. “Bed's not that big.”

 

Zayn grins back and then looks at Louis. “Trade you?”

 

Louis nods and they ease Harry up until Zayn can pull away, and then he and Louis switch. Louis pushes his trousers and pants down past his hips before he sits, and Harry looks down at him almost hungrily, reaching for his cock.

 

Louis takes his hand before he can touch, however, and settles it on his own shoulder instead. “Want you to suck me, Haz.”

 

“Okay,” Harry agrees and smiles. “While Zayn fucks me?”

 

Louis laughs. “If that's what he wants to do, yeah.”

 

He looks past Harry's shoulder and Zayn nods, stripping out of the rest of his clothes and then presses close. “In the drawer, Liam. Can you give me the lube?”

 

Liam does, less inhibited now it seems, clearly hard through his jeans, and when he sits back down Niall reaches over to palm at him. Liam moans, and Harry turns his head to watch, curious.

 

“Hey,” Louis coaxes, tilts his head back. “Attention on me.”

 

Zayn snorts, and Louis nudges at him with his toe. Harry doesn't look to bothered, leaning down and nudging lightly against Louis' cheek with his nose.

 

“Can I have a kiss?” he asks, and Louis nods.

 

“Of course.”

 

He winds his hand in Harry's hair and pulls him down, kisses him and nips at his lower lip. Harry willingly parts them so that the kiss can deepen, and moans into Louis' mouth when Zayn starts working a slick finger into him, his other hand splayed across the small of his back.

 

This is one of Harry's favourite parts. He loves it when he's spread open on someone's fingers, loves that with a bit of work he can take four and then five if he wants and then a cock. And Zayn is always kind of gentle 'til he knows pushing his fingers in and spreading them doesn't hurt all that much anymore. He gradually feeds more fingers into him, until Harry's merely panting against Louis' neck, pushing back to meet his hand.

 

“Zayn, Zayn, c'mon...”

 

“Yeah,” Zayn rumbles, more than ready to fuck into him and make him moan some more. He glances over at Liam and Niall, and they're both watching wide-eyed and flushed. Niall's got Liam's fly opened and his hand down his pants, and Liam's palming at Niall's cock in return, a bit too busy to watching to get a hand properly around him.

 

He grabs the bottle he's dropped next to him and is quick in covering his cock, keeps a hand around himself as he presses close, dragging up and down along Harry's crack before he starts pushing in. A full body-shiver runs through Harry when he does, his hands now holding onto Louis' thighs, and Louis has tilted his head up to kiss his mouth and jaw and cheeks. Zayn pushes in steady until his hips are flush against Harry's backside, and he stands still, leans over to mouth at his nape.

 

“Can you suck Louis off while I fuck you?” he asks, loud enough that Niall and Liam will also hear. “You know he loves your mouth.”

 

Harry's never been a good multitasker, but that's different when sex is involved, and he nods, eager for it, and his thighs twitch as if he's uncertain if he can push back or not. “If you fuck me,” he mumbles and leans down, tongues at the head of Louis' cock, and Louis' hips jerk up because he wasn't expecting it.

 

He gets a hand in Harry's hair and holds, runs it through it and coaxing him into taking the head into his mouth. Zayn's hips snap forwards when he does and Harry's pushed further down on his cock than he intended, chokes for a moment before Louis lets him up. Harry glares at him for about half a second, Louis smirks in return, and then Zayn pulls back and pushes into him again and he moans and lets Louis guide him back down, takes him in and sucks.

 

He always goes a bit dopey when this happens, pliant enough to let them mould him however he want, just does his best, runs his tongue messily all over Louis' cock and clenches down around Zayn's, pulls off to lap at Louis' balls with small kittenish licks.

 

“You're being so good,” Louis murmurs, breath hitching just so, but he's got good control of himself, doesn't force him to do anything yet. He sometimes looks up to meet Zayn's eyes, but mostly focuses his attention on Harry. He grips his hair tight, and then rubs smooth fingertips over his scalp. “So good between us, Haz. Liam and Niall are loving it, too.”

 

Harry's gaze flickers to the side, but he can't quite see them, and Louis seems to know. “They're getting each other off to you. They love it.”

 

Harry moans and lets his eyes fall shut, gets his mouth around him again and takes him in, lets himself be pulled back and pushed down by Zayn's thrusts. Zayn's fingers are gripping his hips, no doubt leaving bruises, but that's what Harry likes. Likes the reminder of what has happened, no matter how short or long it lasts for.

 

Zayn is fucking into him in short, sharp thrusts, hitting his prostate every so often, and Harry squeezes his eyes shut because he can't look, especially now that Louis' hips are lifting up to push deeper into his mouth, to the back of his throat. It strains, but it's a good kind of strain that Harry loves and _wants_ to be put under.

 

Harry continues to clench down around him, as if he isn't tight enough as it is, and Zayn groans and hunches forwards, thrusts quicker, the friction just on that side of satisfying. He's tempted to get a hand around Harry's cock, but he's got something else planned and focuses on getting his own orgasm. It won't be long, it never is, because they're so good at working themselves up.

 

His hips smack against Harry's thighs, the sound of skin on skin louder than the moans from Liam and Niall, louder than the obscene sounds of Harry's mouth on Louis and Zayn's dick pushing into him.

 

Harry pulls his head up and Louis' lets him, thumbs across his lower lip as Harry gasps.

 

“C'mon, Zayn, please. Need you to come in me. Want you to fill me up, _please_.”

 

“Yeah,” Zayn pants. “Yeah, Haz.”

 

He sits back on his haunches and pulls Harry into his lap, sucks a vivid mark on the back of his shoulder where it won't be visible if Harry's careful tomorrow. Harry's shameless in his moaning now, rocking back down when Zayn pushes up, and when Harry cranes his neck to look at him over his shoulder, it's enough.

 

Zayn comes with a loud groan, fucks into him and pants against his skin when he's done, pushing him forwards and slowly slips out. Harry's a shuddering mess, rutting slightly against the bed, and Louis pulls him up.

 

“Want your mouth back on me, Haz. Can you do that for me? We'll get you off if you're a good boy and let me fuck your mouth.”

 

Harry manages an eager nod and takes Louis into his mouth as far as he can go and farther, relaxes his throat and breathes through his nose. It's not the easiest position for someone to fuck his mouth in, would be much easier if he was on his knees on the floor or up against the headboard with Louis straddling his chest, but it works.

 

Niall lets out an embarrassingly loud moan before they can get started, however, and Zayn and Louis glance over. Niall has Liam straddled, cock sticking out of his jeans, and there's come on Liam's stomach where Niall has pushed his shirt up.

 

Zayn grins at him from where he's settled back, and Niall returns it before shifts back and starts to jerk Liam off with quick, sharp movements, using his own come as lubricant. It should be disgusting, but it isn't, just hot, and Liam looks like he's too far gone to comment on it with the way he's pushing up into Niall's hand.

 

Louis looks down and caresses Harry's cheek, before he pushes up. It takes a few thrusts for Harry to properly adjust, and then he's moaning into it, even when Louis hits the back of his throat and makes tears appear in his eyes.

 

“So – fucking – good – fuck!” Louis hisses, hand tight in Harry's hair, pulling him down on his cock and making him gag a few times, but it's so easy to tell that Harry loves it, the precome dripping down onto the bed sheets, how he doesn't even protest but just lets himself be used.

 

Harry's face is red and wet with tears, and it's a sight that makes pleasure settle low in Louis' gut, makes him want to defile him even further. But that's not his place, and this is enough, and he pulls Harry down until his nose is against Louis' stomach when he comes, lets him up only when Harry chokes trying to swallow it down.

 

He looks beautifully wrecked, saliva and come on his chin, face red, tears still present and hair mussed. He also looks happy, smiling and sated, despite not having come yet.

 

Zayn presses up close to his back and licks at his cheek before he starts to stroke him, and Harry shivers, pressing back, hips twitching as he manages a breathy little moan, head resting on Zayn's shoulder. It doesn't take long for him to come, Zayn only needs to thumb at the head and press his nail against his slit with one hand, and stroke up along his shaft with the other, and then he's arching and coming with a keening whine.

 

Zayn aims his dick away from him, most of the come getting on the bed rather than on them, and then Harry's completely boneless in his arms. When he looks over at Niall and Liam, he knows Liam's come too, still panting slightly from it, his come covering Niall's hand.

 

Niall's found some tissues somewhere, probably in the night stand, and he throws the box over when he's all done.

 

“So,” Zayn begins when they're all done catching their breaths and calming down, cleaning off the little come that'd gotten onto his hand. “Why did you come, anyway?”

 

Niall covers his face with his hands and laughs, as if he's forgotten why they were even there in the first place up until this point. “We were just going to ask if you wanted to go out,” he mutters. “ _Oh my god_ , I can't believe...”

 

“Well, this was a lot more fun than going out,” Louis says and grins. “We should do it again.”

 

“In your dreams.” Harry mumbles sleepily.

 

Louis pokes at him, but Harry doesn't react, so he gives up and pushes himself up a bit. “I think you should get cleaned up. I rather doubt you want to spend the morning scraping come out of yourself.”

 

Harry wrinkles his nose a little. “But I'm sleepy.”

 

Zayn sighs and heaves himself up. “I'll go with you. I need a shower anyway.”

 

“Don't slip and die,” Liam advises, looking more awake than anyone else. “And I also think that's our cue to leave. You know how Paul gets when we're not in our own rooms in the morning.”

 

“I don't think he knows what we just did though.”

 

“I don't think he _wants_ to know.”

 

“If I were him I know I wouldn't.” Niall responds, but zips himself up and fastens the button on his jeans and gets to his feet. He grabs the tissues he and Liam had cleaned themselves with and tosses them in the trash.

 

It takes a bit of fumbling, but Louis, Liam and Niall finally get up and out, bidding the other two goodnight, and Zayn and Harry find their way to the bathroom. The shower helps a little, and if Zayn slips two fingers into Harry to help him and at the same time feel how loose and wet he is, then none would need to be the wiser.

 

They fall into the bed Liam and Niall had occupied to avoid the stains Harry had left on the other one, kicking his clothes off the edge and making themselves comfortable.

 

“You gonna be sore?” Zayn asks, and Harry hums.

 

“A little, maybe. Won't be too much of a bother.”

 

Zayn snorts a little, remembering one time he said that and then could barely walk after. “I suppose we'll see,” he says, and Harry nods.

 

“In the morning.” he mutters, spreads out until he lies comfortably, and Zayn shifts to accommodate. This is _Zayn's_ favourite part, in all honesty, but he won't say that.

 

He smiles instead, trails his fingers along the bird tattoos and then closes his eyes to sleep.


End file.
